The Ever Vigilant, Mike Renko
by Ambrosia Rush
Summary: *Spoilers/tag to for Sans Voir pt I & II* The death and aftermath of Special Agent Mike Renko.
1. The Ever Vigilant

Mike Renko took notice immediately when Sam Hanna walked into Point Blank, G Callen right behind him. _Oh this can't be good_, he thought as he continued stocking shelves. He was a good agent, one didn't live to be thirty four in his line of work with out being good at it. He specialized in undercover work since he was twenty one, moved around from being an undercover cop, did the jump through a few ABC agencies before finally finding somewhere he wanted to stay when he was picked up by NCIS: OSP when he was twenty eight.

He'd worked with both Callen and Sam on numerous occasions, there had even been a time where he'd worked with Callen as partners. Turned out they were great friends, terrible partners, too much alike and too willing to take risks to get the job done, and keep the civilians safe. The bills for wrecked cars and bloodstained wardrobes had Macy do a change up. Both men needed someone to balance them out, not dive bomb them into complete recklessness. Callen found that balance in Sam, and Renko ended up realizing he just didn't work to well with others. He'd had partners. Lots of partners. Working with a partner had it's benefits, but partner's also came with the con of being another person who could end up dead, more blood on his hands. He'd lost two partners in the line of duty. There was no way in hell he'd lose a third. He'd give up the job first. Instead, he'd talked it over with Macy, and Hetty when she'd returned to ensure he got solo gigs. He preferred it just being him and his alias. He worked better alone.

"What can I do for ya?" the man behind the counter asked as Sam and Callen approached.

Renko kept his eyes on his work but kept his ears open. Sam and Callen showing up to where he was doing an undercover assignment felt wrong. Especially since he'd been pretty sure Hetty hadn't known about it, Granger had come to him and despite not liking the Assistant Director he did realize that the man was his boss's boss.

"Lookin' to by a nine," Sam responded.

"Anything in particular?"

"A Glock maybe," Sam said as Callen looked through the glass display case.

"Yeah, not a problem," the man responded.

Callen kept looking around the room until his blue eyes met with Renko's green ones. With the eye contact made Renko looked away. The bad feeling intensified the closer Callen got. Filled with a sense of foreboding he continued stocking shelves as Callen stood on the opposite side of the display case.

"Time to break up with Mara," Callen said quietly as his eyes stayed on the merchandise.

Renko knew what it meant, it meant he was possibly burned and in serious trouble. He took a deep breath. "That's too bad," he responded. "I was just about to make a dishonest woman out of her," he said because he really couldn't resist saying something smart-assed. He looked at Callen, before he walked around the display case. His heart was hammering in his chest but he was sure not to let the sudden surge of panic show on his face. Outwardly, he was just an employee slacking off and going outside. He went through the two doors and walked out into the parking lot the cool air sharpening his senses.

Phone in hand as a prop his mind raced as he walked keeping his eyes open for anyone. Who knew that he wasn't who he said he was? He shoved the phone away into his jeans as he approached the ugly brown truck. Just once he wanted to get one of those classy covers, maybe get an Aston Martin or a Lamborghini... as if Hetty would ever allow it considering the car damage he'd wracked up on his last mission.

"Where are you going Hal?"

_Shit_, because when you're having a bad day it just has to go and get worse.

"Got a burst pipe, Bruce. Just got a text, my kitchen's flooding," he lied easily. He might just be a compulsive liar, but at least he put his talent to good use. "Should be back in an hour," _or never_, he thought.

"Uhuh," Bruce responded obviously not humoured. "The pipe can wait, I need to have a word with ya. Now." He made a move and Renko knew it well, Bruce was going for a gun. Training kicked in and he quickly grabbed the man by the shoulders and shoved him into the truck. Didn't work out so well though, because Bruce pushed back, and had a quite a few pounds on Renko who hit the ground hard. He ignored the pain in his back the bruising that would surely follow and quickly moved to get on top of the situation rolling Bruce over and getting he upper hand.

Bruce called out for back up as he tried pushing Renko off but the man was determined not to end up on the ground where he then might be out weighted. Surely Callen and Sam would be leaving the store? Right? Renko held on to hope that help would be coming. Everything but the fight was a bit of a blur, and he ignored the talking, just made mental notes of where the people were from their voices.

"Federal agents!" That breaks through to Renko. It's Kensi's voice. _Bless her_. Back up. There are gunshots and his hope turns to despair. This is why he doesn't work with others. He likes Kensi plenty, they'd been good friends for a long time. He flirted with her every chance he got, and they both knew that it meant nothing. That was the beauty, he was a man, she was a woman and they were friends, no complications. Now, he's distracted because he's worried about her. He hopes that her partner... Deeks? He hopes Deeks is with her, backing her up, keeping her safe. Bullets keep flying. Glass shatters.

Bruce used the extra weight and Renko knows he's lost the upper hand when he ends up rolled over on to his back during the fight. Automatic gunfire breaks out and a bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Renko took a punch to the kidneys and his body tensed with the pain.

He moved quickly in a panic knowing he needed to get some kind of advantage but it was too late. Bruce had gotten to his feet and already had his gun is in his hand, the gun pointed right at Renko's head.

That part where your life flashes before your eyes, it's not true, or at least in all the times he's faced death it's never happened. Sure certain things pop into his mind, but mostly there is just this shock, vision tunnelling to the weapon. He can't believe that he's going to die here in this parking lot. It simply can't happen.

A gun shot rang out but the bullet didn't follow. Bruce fell and Sam stood behind him.

Renko realized then that he hadn't been breathing, he'd been holding his breath waiting for impact. Realizing he wasn't shot he inhaled the cool air and his lungs are grateful he exhaled shakily still locked in shock as he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

"We're clear," Sam announced.

Renko's still surprised that he doesn't have a bullet lodged in his chest. He slowly sat up. "Holy shit," he muttered to himself. Sam gave another look around before reaching out and Renko took his hand accepting the help up. His knees were shaky but he didn't let it show. "Thanks," he said, he knows that the word isn't enough, never can be enough and yet he knows Sam understands his gratitude when the big man gives a sharp nod and gives him a pat on the shoulder before checking on his partner, and the status of the rest of his team.

He heard the ambulances, police cars approaching and he leaned against the truck still trying to get his heart to stop trying to escape his chest. He was alive and that alone was exhilarating.

Vehicles park and he's starting to cope, cops are swarming, paramedics are checking bodies. Letting out a breath he looks to the sky and then around the area. Callen and Sam are talking to some cops. Deeks is escorting Mara to a cop car- at least that's one complication gone, she'd been his in but it didn't mean he had to like it. He didn't like using women for covers, as necessary as it sometimes was. Most believed it was his favourite part and he let them, because sometimes wearing a mask for your colleagues can help you just as much as when you wear it for the criminals. Of course there were exceptions, he didn't bother with it when he was around Callen, who'd known him long enough to know the difference between when he was the smart-assed agent Renko and when he was just Mike. With Sam he also felt that same bond, that brotherhood with and dropped the pretenses of another face. And Kensi, he didn't bother putting up the front for her, he figured she was one of those women who'd been lied to one to many times and besides, they'd been friends for too long to bother.

Thinking of Kensi, she walked over and he knows she's going to ask the dreaded, 'are you okay?' So preemptively he takes a step away from the front of the truck and faces her with a smile, a genuine grateful-to-be-alive kind of smile upon his face. "I guess I should be thankful to somebody for saving my bacon," hands on hips, a big grin on his face- the one he knows Kensi can't resist smiling back to.

"Oh yeah," she smiled just a bit, playing along. "Who might that be, Renko?"

"Hmm, let me see, Callen, Deeks, Sam," his eyebrows raising just a little. "Definitely Sam. I think that's about it," he said trying unsuccessfully to keep the smile off his face.

She bobs her head in a distinctly faux-offended manner. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"There's no one else you could possibly think of?" She needled.

He can't help it, he smiled s bit. "There might be somebody," she's smiling and it's a beautiful thing. He raises a his index finger as he pretends to be thinking about it. "But I can't seem to put my finger on it."

The sound of a shot going off registers just before the pain.

"Renko." His name is being called but he can't move, he's a step away from lights out. "Renko." It's Kensi's voice. It's her hands on his neck. "Renko stay with me buddy," her voice is fading out. "Come on," nothing more than a whisper. "Stay with me."

**And this time his life really does flash before his eyes. **


	2. G Callen

Callen didn't have time to properly grieve until he was in the LAPD lock up. He laid down on the bed and stared despondently at the ceiling. Memories. So many memories. Renko had been like that cousin that occasionally dropped into your life without any warning. A smile. A laugh. He'd been an exceptional agent and a better friend.

And now Mike Renko was dead.

_**Because of me**_**.**

Callen sat up as the weight on his chest threatened to crush him. Both hands ran over his short hair as he tried to make his lungs take in air. Guilt. So much guilt. _If I'd just shot that son of a bitch, if I had just killed him in the first place, _he thought with an antagonizing amount of pain.

The weight of Michael Renko and Lauren Hunter's deaths were on his shoulders. He stood and went to the tiny sink in the cell and started washing his hands knowing there was no literal blood on them, but he felt dirty. The water was cold, and then it went hot. Too hot. It burned and he could only imagine the heat as the car that Hunter had been in exploded. Her voice calling his name in his head, the desperation. _'Callen! Help me!'_

He found his back against the cold wall of the cell, he slid down the cinder blocks scraping at his back but he didn't feel a thing. His hands were still burning hot, red and swollen. His head hit against the wall with a 'thump' and he couldn't contain the sobs that were clawing their way up his throat.

He'd been an emotional wreck. Never so angry as when he'd thrown the Chameleon against the wall in the boatshed and pulled his service weapon. Never so shocked as when he'd looked over his shoulder to see the defiant Hunter in a car rigged to blow, her wrists taped to the wheel. Never had he felt so lost as when he'd held a gun to the Chamaeleon with the reporters filming, his teammates telling him to drop his weapon, their voices blending with the demands of the LAPD before he emptied a clip. Never had he felt such failure as when he'd heard the shot ring out and a moment later see Kensi kneeling beside his fallen brother.

Blood on her hands. Blood on her shirt. Mike's blood. He can't help but wipe his hands on his jeans as if the blood on his hands. It's not. It never was. But his death? Callen has no doubts in his mind that, that is his fault and he's not sure he can live with it.

"_The ever vigilant Special Agent Mike Renko. Late night clubbing, rock star?"_ _Callen could hear his voice in his head, see the jump of Renko who'd been sleeping in a chair at the boatshed. _

"_I was working undercover with a bunch of tweekers. Freaking guys never sleep,"_ _Renko flashed his trademark roguish grin. _

Callen couldn't recall the last time he felt hot tears falling down his face, but they do as he sits with his back to the wall in the small cell in LAPD lock up. After everything in the past twenty four hours, he can't help but wish the Chameleon had just shot him instead.


	3. Henrietta Lange

"_Agent Renko had a cardiac arrest right after surgery," Hetty paused. "There was nothing they could do for him." Tears burned and composure was barely held._

Hetty looked at the badge in her hand. Renko's face looked back at her. She couldn't do it. She couldn't lose another agent. She wasn't sure if she could handle these losses so close together. _Hunter. Renko. _Dominic. Sullivan. The list was too long. She couldn't bear it any longer. She couldn't deal with another life snuffed too soon. _Callen_. Despite still being alive, he too was lost.

Overwhelming grief and the undeniable burn of personal failure ate away at her. Had there only been something more she could have done.

Would things have been different had she have known or if Granger hadn't been the one 'at the helm' or would Michael Renko be dead either way?

And Hunter? Would she too be gone?

The weight of losing two brilliant lives, so close together... no. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't carry the weight, couldn't hold it up any longer it was too heavy for her to bear. Her burden was already weighing her down. Granger wanted her out. Fine then, she was gone.

The anger she'd felt in the hospital after all the parking lot had been secured. Suspects detained or being picked up by the coroner. Her agents had been standing there. How had this happened? What had gone wrong? Was there some way it could have been prevented for they stood there completely and utterly unaware. It could have been any one of them; it could have been the beautifully deadly Kensi, she was standing right in front of Renko, or it could have been the laid-back detective who brought balance to the team, or it could have been the heart of the team Sam especially since the Chamaeleon wanted to hurt Callen.

In any case, the sniper's bullet had hit it's mark, Michael Renko. And the bullet had done it's job, and the loss of his life had pushed Callen ever closer to the edge exactly as the Chameleon had predicted it would... but they'd all underestimated Callen, how very close he was to the edge, how desperate he was to make sure the Chameleon didn't get away with what he had done. He wasn't just close to the edge, he was right about to lean back and let himself fall. She should have know. She seen how he was in the boatshed. She had let him continue working. She should have done something. Pulled him from the case. Sent him to see a grief councillor. Brought Nate back. _Something_. She should have done something. Regret and guilt gnawed at her.

Beside herself, she didn't know what to do, how to deal with such losses. She wasn't sure how to move forward, move on. One thing was for certain though, she could no longer shoulder the responsibilities, the guilt and the loss that came with being the Operations Manager in the NCIS's Office of Special Projects. She changed the date on the letter, wrote Owen Granger on the front and walked away only to catch a glimpse of Callen on the live feed, his blue eyes staring heartbreakingly into the camera and right into her soul. She turned away unable to bear his gaze and walked out of OSP. Perhaps, forever.


	4. Kensi Blye

Kensi hadn't gone to OSP for debriefing. When Sam told her to she'd had said some pretty nasty stuff before storming off. Why should she debrief? They all knew what happened. Granger knew what happened. He'd been there throughout the case. He knew. Renko had been shot right in front of her eyes, standing only a few feet before her, a smile on his face as he teased her. Hunter had blown up not far from where they had stood, she could remember feeling the heat from the explosion despite the distance. Callen had shot a man in cold blood right before their very eyes. Did it matter that the Chameleon deserved to die? Did it matter that Callen did what he needed to in order to protect innocent lives?

She couldn't take the fact that they dedicated their lives to justice... and yet... Michael Renko was dead. Lauren Hunter was dead. Two NCIS agents had fallen. The man who had killed them would be set free... what were they suppose to do? Hand him over? Apparently... But Callen hadn't been able to, and she knew he was plagued with the nagging guilt, she knew what he was thinking. If he'd only hit the Chameleon with a kill-shot in the first place instead of wounding him and drawing his revenge... then Renko and Hunter would both still be alive. She knew that Callen couldn't allow the Chameleon to stay free, to target more of his own... after all, she along with Deeks and Sam nearly were killed in that warehouse... if they had... the Chameleon likely would have died in the boatshed.

The Chameleon's death didn't bring back the agents lost, but Kensi understood that Callen had done it to protect the rest of the team, their agency, but she wondered at what cost. He was sitting in LAPD lock up and she wasn't sure what was going to happen to him. It wasn't everyday a NCIS undercover legend shot a man in broad daylight with tons of witnesses, a television crew broadcasting live, and LAPD on scene.

In one day she'd lost so much. Hunter, though she hadn't particularly liked the woman, was still and NCIS agent and didn't deserve to go out as a part of some sadistic madman's game. Callen, despite living, he too was gone... much like Hetty, for Kensi had come back only to see the envelope on the woman's desk addressed to Owen Granger and knew exactly what was inside. And Renko... the pain inside her chest intensified as memories flooded her.

"_He's lying." She said angrily. "He's stonewalling. He's messing with me." _

_Renko grinned and she knew he was unable to stop himself from what he said next. "Sounds like you on a second date." _

_She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Nothing you have to worry about." _

She walked into her house, Deeks close behind. He had followed her from OSP. Of course he had, it was how he was wired. She'd said some awful stuff to him too, but she had enough guilt from the day's painful events and couldn't find it in her to feel any over what she'd said to Sam or Deeks. She tried to get her partner to leave. Of course, he wouldn't, her partner was nothing if not persistent. He sat next to her on her couch. Her left knee was touching his right. He was quiet. Perhaps that more than anything told her the gravity of the situation.

He started out softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

_Ah, there he is, _she thought bitterly. "No," she responded through her teeth.

"You should probably talk about it," he said in a compassionate manner.

"Shut up Deeks," she growled.

He looked over at her, his blue eyes tired and haunted from the day. "He's dead."

She whirled on him, her dark eyes lit up with rage. "Shut up!"

"He was shot right in front of you and-"

"Shut up!" She screamed at him sending and elbow to his gut which hit it's mark, but he caught the fist she'd thrown to hit his face. He turned her fist pulling her arm and after a bunch of quick movements from both of them he'd gotten the better of her, pinned her down with his own body over hers lengthwise over the couch.

"It's not your fault," his voice quick, insistent. "He was shot in the line of duty. He died in the hospital. He's dead."

"I know!" She screamed at him. "I was there. I was in the hospital. They wheeled him into recovery and the monitors went off and the doctor told me to wait there and there was _nothing_," her voice broke. "NOTHING," she screamed again. "I could do but stand there, and the curtain was pulled and the doctors came out but they didn't need to say anything," she panted her eyes welling with tears. "_I could hear it." _She sobbed, tears escaping her iron control, her vocal cords protesting with how loud she was screaming. " He'd flat lined. He was dead. _**Mike is dead**_." It took her minute in her rage haze to realize she'd done what he'd wanted. Talked about it. Well... half screamed and half sobbed about it.

Tears fell freely down her face as sobs shook her body. What was it with the men in her life? They all either left her or died. Her father died, Jack left, Dom died, Mike died, Callen left in handcuffs. She wondered which Deeks would be. Sam. Eric.

Deeks let go of her wrists but didn't move off of her. "You'll get through this," his voice was soft once more, sympathetic as he brushed his hand through her hair in a comforting manner. "We all will."

"_There's no one else you could possibly think of?" she asked knowing he was teasing her._

_She knows he's trying not to, but he smiles a bit. "There might be somebody." She smiled widely, she'd always loved their friendly platonic relationship, the way he teased, and poked fun, he could always make her smile. He raised a his index finger as he pretended to thinking about it. "But I can't seem to put my finger on it." _

"No," she whispered as the sound of the sniper shot echoed in the back of her head. She can feel the warmth of blood on her hands, and when she squeezed her eyes shut she could only see Renko laying there on the ground, bleeding. "I won't."


	5. Nathaniel Getz

Nathaniel Getz got word hours after Michael Renko ended up in the morgue. He was half way across the world, alone and in a dingy motel room when his phone had come to life, and over the line the words made his heartbeat faster, his mind fought to comprehend. His phone dropped to the floor seconds before he did.

_Nate watched Kensi interrogate on the television. "Should she be allowed in there with him? I mean, he's huge." _

_Renko had gave a little shrug. "Riley's bigger and stronger," he conceded. "But she's meaner," he decided with flat humour, the corners of his lips twitching slightly giving away the humour he saw in the situation. _

They'd known each other a long time, and Renko was that easy going kind of guy that everyone just instinctively liked. He was a wise-ass, constantly cracking jokes, but could take the smart-aleck rebuttals of colleagues cooly.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms to ebb the stinging. His migraine was no match for the ache in his chest. Loss and grief didn't come any easier to him, he was a phytologist, he knew the stages, he knew the tips the tricks of getting through it but it didn't make it easier. Today he'd lost a friend. He never again would hear the laugh of Mike Renko, no more dirty jokes, no offhanded comments, never see the roguish smile. Mike Renko was gone.

Nate had plenty of memories during his early days especially, Renko had been a more permanent fixture at NCIS:OSP then. A laugh, a smile, a joke- always with a joke. The man didn't seem to do serious... unless he was undercover. Mike Renko was a damn good undercover who was smarter than most people gave him credit for. And Nate was not just his friend, but also the operational phytologist for the agents. He knew things about Michael Renko that no one else did... with perhaps the exception of Hetty.

Like he knew that Renko had three brothers, two older, one younger, a loving mother, and a step-father that all cared for him, the family based in Ohio that would have already, or perhaps were about to be informed of his death.

He knew Mike Renko sent money home at the end of every month to help put his youngest brother through university.

He knew Mike Renko had a soft spot for stray animals. He'd feed them, smuggle them into his animal-free apartment building if it was raining. He'd probably have a bunch of cats and dogs if he didn't have to go away so often for undercover work.

Nate also knew Renko's deepest kept secret. Something he hid from the other agents.

_Just incase. _

Nate knew about Sabella. Nate knew that she and Renko were engaged, planning their wedding, but had held it off after some surprising news. Sabella was pregnant, now at the eight month mark. Despite Renko trying to hide the emotions when he'd told the psychologist, Nate had seen through him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, his eyes taking on that sparkle of a man taking joyous steps through life.

Now, Sabella would be burying the man she loved, a man she hadn't even truly knew, she'd get the truth now that he was gone, she'd be given the consolation 'he died on duty, serving his country' but that wouldn't console her as she went through the rest of her pregnancy alone. She'd give birth alone. Raise their child, a boy- Renko had quite proudly shown him the ultra sound- would never know his father.

Nate had gotten word of Renko's death from Sam, Nate- out of professional curiosity had asked who was making the calls. Granger. Granger had made the calls. Nate felt ill, shock still had him but he knew he'd come out of it and grief would be all that would be left for him to feel. He figured Sabella, who lived in LA deserved the courtesy of being informed, but only he and Hetty knew about her. While he still could manage he took out his phone and now that he had caught up with his thoughts, he called Sam back.


	6. Sam Hanna

Sam stood looking at the couch in the office. It reminded him more of Callen than the man's desk did. He'd debriefed with Granger. He'd done his duty. He wanted to go home to his wife, his kids. He couldn't... he couldn't find it in himself to leave, not after everything that had happened that day.

Mike was dead.

Callen had been arrested.

He sat in the chair across from the couch and stared at it. How many times had he come into work to find his partner sleeping there?

How had everything gotten so messed up? How the hell had everything fallen so _completely_ apart. Sam had always been the rock, the anchor of the team. Everyone said so. Nate said it was his place, he was the one who kept everyone grounded. But who grounded him when he was feeling so lost? He supposed Callen would have done the trick, managed to make some snark remark that somehow made everything _right_ again but Callen wasn't here. Callen was in LAPD lock up after shooting some man in cold blood.

Sam couldn't get right with it. His partner, his best friend shooting someone in cold blood. It went against everything Sam stood for, and at the same time, he knew all the reasons why Callen wouldn't, _couldn't _let the chameleon walk away.

And if that wasn't enough in one day... Lauren Hunter had been burned to death in an explosion not far from where they had been standing. Sam might not have particularly liked the woman, but she was still an NCIS agent, and no one deserved to go out like that.

He, Kensi and Deeks had quite nearly gotten blown up in the Chamaeleon's sadistic game of revenge. So easily could he have died. So easily could he have lost Kensi, or Deeks.

And then... there was Mike. It was excruciatingly painful to think about it. They'd all stood around in that parking lot thinking they were clear, that everything was fine, half an hour after he'd saved Mike from being shot by one man, he was shot in the jaw by another and he'd only been ten, twenty feet from where he and Callen had been standing, only a few feet from Kensi and there was nothing any of them could have done. Renko had fallen and in seconds everyone had their guns out. He could hear Kensi calling out for Mike, begging him to stay.

Sam rubbed the uncomfortable ache in his chest and tried to tell himself it was heartburn. In a way, it kind of was. The kind of ache from loss. His phone rang and he pulled it out. The number was long distance. Like half way across the world kind of long distance and he knew just who was calling. "Nate. We could use your right about now," Sam admitted, he didn't know what to do with himself. His partner arrested. His friend dead. The team in shambles. Hetty no where to be found.

"There is someone who needs you right now," Nate said, his voice seemingly painfully tight. "I need you to write down an address."

"Okay," Sam didn't argue, he just found a pen and a piece of paper on Deeks's desk. "Shoot." He winced at the poor choice of words. Nate recited the address and Sam jotted it down and repeated it to ensure it was correct. "Now who is this?"

"You can't tell anyone."

"I promise," Sam was a man of his word, and Nate knew that.

"Sabella Kare... she... she..." Nate was quiet for a second and Sam gave the man a moment to pull himself together. "She was going to be Sabella Renko..."

"Mike was engaged?" Sam's mind went back to another time...

"_Looks like you got your bunkmate back G," Sam said flipping through paperwork as he sat with Callen and Renko in the bullpen. Callen huffed. "Love boat sails again." _

"_Not with me on board," Renko responded with a sly smile on his scruffy face as he turned to look at Callen. "Na, I'll be staying with, a...uh..." the smile he attempted to cage stayed free. "Friend," he said. "Right," unable to keep the grin from his face he returned to his coffee to take a sip. _

_Callen stared at him with a disbelieving expression. "Wait a minute," Callen said. "Back in town less than twenty four hours and you're already staying with a _'friend.'_" Callen didn't air quote, he didn't need to, his tone said it all. Renko looked over his shoulder to glare at Callen a bit, but there was a slight edge of a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he gave the most casual of shrugs. "It's," Callen struggled for a word. _

"_Astonishing," Sam offered on cue. _

"_Astonishing," Callen repeated with a slight nod. "That a person of such modest appearances and charm." _

"_Questionable personal hygiene," Sam chimed in to the ribbing of their old friend. The kind of raillery was as close as anyone got to a 'welcome home' at OSP. _

_Renko put his hand to his chest making an 'offended' gesture, but there was a smile on his face, understanding the welcome home when he seen it. He paired the movement with an, "Ow," but there was only humour in his voice._

"_You're racking up tail like-" Sam was then cut off by Eric calling out from the balcony. _

"_Hetty!" The one word caught all their attentions. "Wants you. Upstairs. Oh!" he said remembering something. "She said one point for whoever gets up here first." _

_Renko casually set down his coffee cup, Sam, Callen and Renko all shared a look and then darted from their seats. Callen pushing Renko back first, and then Sam muscling him back as they raced up the stairs. _

He wondered if Sabella was the same 'friend'. "How long?" Sam asked.

Nate was quite a moment. "Engaged three years, been together close to five," Nate responded. "You told me Granger made the calls... he didn't know about Sabella. Only Hetty and I did."

Sam hung his head. "You want me to-" The line went dead and Sam looked at the phone. He knew what reception was like in some places in the world. He knew it could be minutes, hours or days before Nate got service again. Still. He knew what he had to do, he looked down at the address and grabbed his coat.

::

Sam had the unfortunate duty to inform the loved ones of departed soldiers before, it was never easy. Taking in a steadying breath he knocked, this was something productive. He couldn't get Callen out of prison, but he could do this for Mike. God knew, Granger wasn't exactly a comforting presence.

The door swung open and he was met with at blonde haired woman, fair skin, blue eyes, a kind welcoming smile upon her face. "Hi," she greeted him happily despite not knowing who he was. Sam couldn't take the happiness in her eyes, and looked down only to see she was undeniably very pregnant. He closed his eyes. _Give me strength,_ he prayed silently.

He opened his eyes and showed her his badge. "I'm NCIS Special Agent Sam Hanna. I need to speak with you."

She looked confused but took a step back and made a motion for him to come in. She shut the door behind them and lead him through a cosy living room that had pictures of sunsets, a marina, and one over the fireplace was a picture of Mike holding Sabella, their eyes locked, smiles on both faces. Sam's heart ached looking at it. She went into the kitchen. "Coffee?" she offered. "I have tea too."

"I'm just fine, but thank you." Sam wasn't sure how to go on, how to break the news to the woman who stood before him, her hands on the counter, the solitaire on her finger had to have cost no less than what Mike made at NCIS in three months.

_He was like a brother to me. _The thought came in unguided, unwanted. He couldn't think about his own grief now. He had a job. A task. He was grateful, but it wasn't a distraction, instead it made him look right at one of the reasons why his heart was in knots. He took in a deep breath. "I'm afraid I have bad news."

Sabella blinked and looked to her left hand as if she knew. "Michael," she whispered in question. She looked back up at Sam. "Has something happened to Michael?" her words were hurried, on the verge of panic.

Sam bowed his head slightly. "Michael Renko was an undercover NCIS agent." He heard her gasp but he continued looking up to see she'd covered her mouth with her hand. "He... he was killed on the line of duty this morning."

He hadn't even gotten through the sentence before she'd broken down into tears, backed up a few steps till she was leaning against the counter, her hands going over her stomach. "No, no, no," she was sobbing over and over.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Sam's voice was thick with emotions. _Your loss. Our loss_. "He was a good agent, a good man... a good friend."


	7. Mike Renko

"_Sorry," he said having purposely bumped into her hard enough to explain catching her when she fell and holding her close bringing her upright with a smile on his face as he managed to keep the umbrella above them. He'd seen her from a ways away, head down pushing forward against the wind and rain and recognized her from before. She worked at one of the coffee shops he rotated through, it was the only one he made sure to hit up at least twice a week... and when ever she was in, he'd flirt shamelessly with her. "Sabella?" he said sounding surprised despite not being in the least. _

"_Mike," she said in surprise and a smile. "Coffee's the other way." _

"_Yeah well," he said keeping his arm around the small of her back. "You're not working so," he shrugged and she smiled. _

"_One might say you're flirting with me." _

"_One might," he agreed. _

"_Maybe... instead of just flirting you should ask the girl for dinner," she said biting down on her bottom lip nervously as she swayed slightly in her stance pressing a little against him. _

_The smile just wouldn't leave his face. "Maybe I would, but I don't know where to take her." _

"_Maybe she likes Yamashiro." _

"_Well in that case..." he took a step back. "I'll go ask her, thanks for the advice." _

_She swatted his chest. "Michael!" _

"_I'm kidding," he assured her with a little smirk. "Care to join me for dinner sometime?" _

_She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. "I'd love to." _

_::_

"_Oh my God." _

"_That isn't exactly an answer." _

"_Oh... my... God!" _

"_I'm getting a little nervous here." _

"_Oh my God, oh my God!" _

"_Sabella!" Renko whined as he was down on his knee before her, the little velvet box in his hand. "Will you marry me?" He asked again. _

_She opened her mouth but only a little squeak escaped so she nodded vigorously instead. "Yes," it came out no more than a broken whisper but it was the answer he'd been looking for. "Yes," she repeated stronger a smile breaking the shock. "Yes!" She jumped into his arms toppling them both to the floor of the apartment they'd been sharing. She kissed him hard on the lips. "I love you." _

"_I love you," he whispered back before kissing her once again. _

_::_

"_You sure?" _

"_Look," she turned it. "It's pink." _

"_I don't know, it's more of a magenta." _

"_Michael!" _

"_Sabella!" _

"_It's pink," she insisted. _

"_Yeah. It's pink," he conceded. _

"_We never talked about it..." she whispered fearfully. _

_He kissed her softly. "Boy," he said before kissing her again. "Girl," he kissed her softly once more. "It doesn't matter," he eased her fears. "So he or she came a little earlier than planned." _

_She smiled as his hands went to either side of her belly. "We're having a baby," she said softly in wonder her hands going over his. _

"_Yeah, we are," he said his voice filled with the same wonderment as hers. _

_::_

"_So... this business in Chicago?" Sabella questioned her hands on her stomach, eight months along. _

"_A new office is opening, they want someone there with experience," he lied, he'd be in Los Angeles undercover at a firearms shop called Point Blank. Frankly he found it a little ominous. "I'll go in for a few weeks, set up." He stopped packing and turned to his fiancé. "It's fine, I'll be back before the baby comes." _

_Sabella looked up at him sadly. "You promise?" _

_**He kissed her lips unable to make the promise he might not be able to keep. **_

::

**That's the end folks. Thank you to everyone who has read and a big thanks to everyone who's left a review, I really appreciate the support. **


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